m thinkin’ about how utterly horny your boyfie yuuji gets when he’s high off his mind … you’re driving him home from a frat party with him sitting shotgun ( megumi mostly sober and sitting in the back seat ) … yuuji’s groanin’ and moanin’ your name so sweetly and shiftin’ uncomfortably in his seat and his one hand’s gripping your thigh and the other’s palming his hard-on … he’s forgotten ( or just doesn’t care ) that his best friend’s in the back seat … and then he’s leanin’ over the centre console to growl in your ear ( you smell the weed on his breath , he’s so high ) … “you’re so fuckin’ hot— swear i could eat you out in the back seat right now” … “gonna fill you up so good when we get home, baby” … but it’s loud enough for megumi to hear … he’s so turned on ( but he’s just as guilty ) , his breathing picks up , he doesn’t know what to do about the boner he’s begun to pop when he sees yuuji suckin’ on your neck and the hand on your thigh slip underneath your skirt … and you’re trying to apologize to megumi through whines and whimpers that you fail to suppress because yuuji’s fingers just feel so fucking good when they rub up against your sopping cunny … and megumi’s stuttering out that maybe you should just pull over and let him out … but how could you ever agree to that … you’re too sweet , you could never leave him alone on the side of the road at 2 in the morning … yes , that’s definitelythe reason … you definitely don’t get off on the way he’s covering up his boner ( you see him clear as day in the rear view mirror ) … you definitely don’t get off on the low “fuck” that escapes his lips … and you definitely don’t get off on the way his hips grind up into his his arms as he tries to ease the throbbing in his pants <3
Crush(2022) dir. Sammi Cohen + teen movie directors as competing teams
AmyHeckerling- Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Clueless JamieBabbit- But I’m a Cheerleader RichardLinklater- Dazed and Confused WesAnderson- Rushmore CameronCrowe - Say Anything JohnHughes- The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, et al.
literally we need to get rid of the stigma of questioning once and for all.
call yourself gay. call yourself ace. call yourself a lesbian today and a nonbinary bi trans man tomorrow. its fine. literally no community has ever been harmed by someone thinking that label might apply to them and then discarding it later. anyone who says otherwise is drinking the exclusionary kool-aid and isn’t worth the time it would take to argue with them.
1. The service was supposed to be over at ~7:30pm so I could shut down the building and be out by 8. The service itself was standing-room only. There were a FUCKLOAD of people. Everyone left pretty quickly? There were a few stragglers but they left by about eight. Except the family. At eight, it’s unofficial protocol to turn the lights off in the other parts of the building so the people in the chapel know that hey, we’re CLOSED, get OUT without actually saying “hey, leave” lmao. So this family stuck around and talked until 8:45. EIGHT. FORTY-FIVE. By this point, I’ve shut off all the lights, I’ve dimmed the chandeliers in the lobby, and I am THIS FUCKING CLOSE to just shutting the lights off in the chapel because I JUST WANNA GO HOME. When they finally get out the door I just lock it, not caring if they heard me. I could’ve been home in my pj’s by the time they finally left. I was so annoyed lmao.
2. We got hopelessly lost getting to a cemetery. There were three of us: the director in the lead car, the hearse, and myself in the flower car. We were driving to a cemetery about two hours away, and the director’s GPS suddenly crapped out. So we pulled over, and she had the hearse lead us, since he SAID that his was working. As soon as we hit a dead-end on the gravel road, deep in the middle of nowhere, we realized that he had put in the WRONG CEMETERY. So the director used my phone to get us to the cemetery, which wasn’t that far from where we were lmao. As we were waiting for “first dirt,” the director looked at me and was like “hey I’m just gonna go home when we’re done” and I was like “god I wish that were me” but everything worked out fine in the end.
Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
samba schutte aka roach on ofmd who is also himself a baker posted a recipe to roach’s 40 orange glaze cake! (recorded by lucius because roach can’t write)
Tumblr user @transratsactivist has transcribed the recipe here! (And bless you for doing that work, it’s so long.)
I have distinct memories of my 55 year old 7th grade teacher asking us to compose poems about 9/11 while playing that “proud to be an American” song. She broke down in tears while reading the first poem aloud but the only thing we could focus on was her EXTREMELY hard nipples.
This isn’t even a joke. It felt like a fever dream.
